


Strange Comfort

by failufail



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Not too angsty, Royai - Freeform, is that even a thing?, non-vulgar sex, they started somehwere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 20:17:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21124622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/failufail/pseuds/failufail
Summary: After her father’s funeral, Riza Hawkeye decides to share the secret of Flame Alchemy with Roy Mustang.





	Strange Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> This work is the result of me testing out if I could still write smut successfully. I also challenged myself to write non-vulgar (tasteful?) smut as well. I hope it worked out, and that I rated this correctly. (If not, please let me know!) ^^; I didn’t expect this to end up as long as it is, either.
> 
> (Warning: Shameless Plug) But hey, if you want to read some vulgar Royai smut, go check out my other fic from years ago! lol
> 
> I didn’t think I would fall into the Royai hole again, but here I am. These two have always been a favorite of mine. Their relationship in both the manga and the Brotherhood anime was so muted but held so much potential. I always liked reading between the lines.
> 
> I’m sure it’s been done over and over, but if it interests anyone, I was thinking of making this a series. Snippets of the two being intimate in the timeframe of the manga/anime, or the reasons why they would.

“So, where did he keep it?”

The Hawkeye residence was more than just familiar territory for him; he had taken residence here himself when he was training under Master Hawkeye to study alchemy. It had been quite some time since he finished his studies and joined the Amestrian Army, much to the disappointment of his Master. When Roy heard that his health was deteriorating, he had an obligation to come back and see him. 

Not only that—he had to make sure that Riza was taking this well.

Of course, his main reason was to visit his Master in what could possibly be his last days, but he was also just as worried about his daughter. Losing her mother at a young age and now her father in young adulthood couldn’t be easy.

Roy had been the one to watch helplessly as the man who taught him everything he knew about alchemy struggle and lose his life. He was the one who called for help. He was there when Riza barged into the room and saw her father’s lifeless body in his arms. She barely showed any emotion besides shock, and she didn’t break down as emergency personnel tried to revive him to no avail. Roy could only surmise that their relationship had deteriorated further.

That was why, when Riza told him that she truly was in possession of her father’s finished research, he accompanied her back to her home.

He followed her upstairs, assuming they would be stopping in her father’s study. Instead, she hesitated when they reached the door to her bedroom, Roy raising a questioning eyebrow as to why they were there.

“The answer to your question is much more complicated than you think,” she told him and opened the creaking door.

She stepped inside and beckoned for him to follow her. Once inside, she stood in front of the window, unflinching as she removed her overcoat and threw it unceremoniously to the ground.

“Please, don’t be alarmed and don’t think anything less of me for what I am about to do.” Her hands unbuttoned the simple black blouse she had chosen to wear for her father’s funeral, carefully situating her arms around her chest to cover her would-be exposed breasts, and letting it fall to the floor.

Roy had stayed silent throughout, but was slightly taken aback as she started undressing in front of him, wanting to protest. If any words were even at the tip of his tongue, they were immediately snatched away when he saw what her blouse was covering up.

Upon her back was an array—and years and years of notes and research, carefully designed into what a layman would describe as a beautiful work of art. 

But Roy knew better. Had her father finally gone mad, or did he do this within his last sliver of reason? The tattoo itself wasn’t fresh, so it had been done long enough ago for it to be able to heal. Still, the lines were still vivid and the writings so clear that it most likely had been done not too long ago.

“Why…?” was the only word Roy could manage to utter as her stared at her back.

“He deemed me the ‘protector’ of his life’s work,” she answered solemnly, remembering how the needle cut through her skin as her father worked. “He had finally unlocked the secrets to Flame Alchemy, and knowing his time was running short, chose me to carry the burden.”

Roy couldn’t tell if her tone was sarcastic or sad, but took a step closer to inspect the work on her back.

“So please,” she continued, “take what you need, and learn. He had high hopes for you, once. If it is truly your desire to protect Amestris, then I trust you with his secrets.”

He tentatively touched her back, causing her to let out a soft gasp at the contact. He continued to lightly trace the array, wondering how long she sat for her father, and how much pain she endured. It seemed so unfair for him to use her like this—his only legacy—as a mere canvas for his work.

“Alright,” Roy finally said, catching her eyes in the mirror. “It might take some time, but…”

“Take all the time you need.”

Roy momentarily left to grab an empty notebook from the study, and when he came back they eased themselves into more comfortable positions for note-taking. Riza laid on the bed on her stomach, while Roy pulled up a chair to sit beside her. Propriety was important in this situation. Roy didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable in any way.

“Can you do me a favor once you’re done?” she asked as she heard him start writing.

“Anything.”

“Please burn the notes when you’re finished. I’d like to believe that my father wanted the only copy to belong to me.”

It was a simple request that Roy would absolutely honor.

The day eventually wore on with Roy furiously writing into the notebook, decoding passages as he went. Master Hawkeye’s work was fascinating, and it was easy for Roy to run with it, his interest focused solely on the information—and there was so much of it. He wondered how it felt at discovery. 

He only stopped when he realized the sun was fading from the room. Evening was quickly approaching, and he would need more light to finish the notes. He reached to the nightstand to turn on the small light and settling back into his chair, Roy finally noticed Riza’s even breathing. She hadn’t said a word since he started—not even a peep—so she must have fallen asleep at some point.

Adjusting himself to take in the lower and final part of the tattoo, he noticed that her skirt was hiked up higher on her waist, slightly obscuring the design and the words etched into her skin. 

He reached out and carefully started peeling down the fabric, exposing more of her lower back, trying to make sure his fingers did not falter and accidentally brush her skin. The movement was slow, and his eyes took in the curvature of her waist and hips as he exposed them further. How he had managed to have this go unnoticed to him for the last few hours was beyond him. Had he really been that focused on the notes? Her creamy pale skin seemed to glow in the low light of her lamp… and he finally realized the sheer intimacy of their situation.

He shook the realization away, or he tried to. The part of her skirt that he had tried to tuck down did not stay down, due to the position she was in. Roy tried again to carefully pull it down, but it refused to stay. He would have to hold it down, but that required him to put his hand on her, risking waking her up.

Taking a deep breath, that’s what he ultimately did—he carefully pulled the skirt down, and settled his hand right above her hip, holding it there, and releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

Roy returned to his notes.

Movement from her body a short moment later made him stop and remove his hand from her.

Her head turned toward him, her eyes slowly opening. She looked so relaxed, her short hair slightly tousled from moving her head. Her body shifted—just so—so that he was in perfect view of the curvature of the side of her breast. He looked to her eyes, and she looked confused for a moment, not quite remembering where she was and what they were doing.

But clarity came to her quickly and she asked, “Are you finished?”

Roy shook his head silently.

“Did you need a break?”

“I think so…” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. He offered her a soft smile. “I’m having trouble reading the bottom part. Your dress—it’s still covering…”

“Oh, I can…” She tried shifting, but realized that she couldn’t without actually flashing him. “Can you…?”

“Oh. Yes. Of course.” Roy stood up and made his way to the door, diverting his eyes from hers. “I’ll… go make us some tea. Is that… okay?”

Riza nodded, and Roy left.

While he was out of the room, Riza pulled off her skirt and used her sheets to cover up her front while she sat up with her back facing the lamp and her knees tucked into her chest.

A few minutes later, she heard a knock on the door and beckoned him in.

Without asking her to turn, he reached around and handed her a cup. It was still too hot, so she let it rest on the bed while she still held the handle. She rounded her back a little more to make the design on her back more visible to Roy. A minute later, she heard him scribbling in the notebook again.

“The day he died—the day you came—he did wish to pass this to you,” she told him, breaking the stagnant silence in the room. “I wasn’t expecting him to… not then. He wanted to pass this on himself, not through me.”

Roy listened, his writing slowing as he took in her words.

“He let himself go mad over his work, and I suppose I should have noticed the signs, but… he kept saying he was almost there… almost…” Her voice cracked, and she paused to regain her composure. “The last gift I gave him was this. I was his legacy by blood, but now I’m the legacy of his work as well.”

She hadn’t noticed how hard she was gripping the handle of the cup until she felt Roy carefully take it from her hand and place it on the nightstand.

“Riza,” he said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry Mr. Mustang. I shouldn’t burden you with this,” she replied with a sniffle.

She felt the bed shift beside her. When she looked over, she saw that Roy was sitting next to her now.

“‘Roy,’” he corrected her. “I’ve told you that you can address me by my first name.”

She tried to offer him a smile then, and succeeded, but not without a tear trailing down her cheek.

Against his better judgement, he pulled her into his arms and let her softly sob into his uniform jacket. One hand was wrapped around her upper back, and the other steadily resting on her hip. He softly “shushed” her, letting her unload her feelings onto him.

The moment was broken when she pulled away, wiping her face with the back of her hand.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“Don’t apologize,” he said to her. His hand came up to cup her face, turning her back to look at him. “I didn’t just come here for your father, but for you too. I was worried about you.”

“I’m fine now. I am.” She didn’t sound all that convincing, but she leaned into his palm, letting his warmth radiate into her cheek, and making her eyes flutter shut.

_ It was nice to be comforted like this _ , she thought to herself. No one had ever taken the time to give her an outlet for her emotions—good or bad. Her father was never emotionally there, and when he began to lose himself, he wasn’t there for her mentally, either. Without a maternal figure in her life, Riza grew up learning to internalize everything. In turn, it resulted in keeping everyone out.

A sound between a sigh and a hum left her lips, and she opened her eyes to find Roy gazing at her. She couldn’t read the expression on his face. He looked… worried, maybe? Confused? Indecisive?

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and leaned into her, lightly brushing his lips against hers.

It couldn’t even be considered a kiss, really. It was just the slightest touch of his lips to hers, unmoving, testing the waters—but for what exactly? Roy didn’t even know the answer. Hell, he didn’t even know why he apologized to her in the first place.

What he did know was that he wanted to take her pain away.

“Roy?” she whispered against his lips, a million questions settling in the single syllable of his name.

It was the first time she addressed him by his first name, and he took it to heart. It sounded beautiful on her lips, though he never thought of it that way before. Her warm, brown eyes questioned his action, but he didn’t feel her move away.

So he closed his eyes and fully seated his lips on hers.

He didn’t hear but  _ felt _ the slight gasp from her, but not pulling away like he thought she would. When he started to tentatively move his lips, she followed in suit, both of them experimenting with whatever this was… or could become.

His arms returned to their place around her, pulling her even closer. Roy was slowly letting his instincts take over, and it was clear he wanted more—now leaning into the kiss even more, one hand running through the back of her short hair.

And she returned as good as she got. Though she still held the sheet over herself, she maneuvered herself onto her knees without breaking their kiss, allowing more leverage on her part. The simple change caused the man in front of her to grunt softly, causing the corner of her lips to pull up into a smile.

Roy was the one to break the kiss, his breath heavy. “Riza… what are we…”

She didn’t answer with words; only shaking her head to shut him up, and threading one hand through the hair on the back of his head to pull him to her again. Whatever he had wanted to say vanished from his mind the moment her lips found his again. Any doubts he may have wanted to bring up were quickly melting away at her insistent touch.

And he didn’t want to stop kissing her.

For a long time, he never thought to think of her like this—open, unreserved, unguarded, and exposed. She was always the polite daughter of his late Master. Of course, Roy thought she was beautiful—any man would be stupid not to think so—but she always kept herself at a slight distance, preferring to keep herself out of matters she didn’t quite understand.

His hands, out of their own volition, began to trace soft caresses on her back, her sides, to the small of her breath. Her breath hitched when his fingers touched that spot, and he couldn’t help but smirk at his new discovery.

He was always so smug about himself, after all.

Things took a sharp turn into deeper uncharted territory for both of them. His touches became far less timid, but with much more intent. Roy wasn’t the type of person to half-ass a situation like this, so he let himself fall onto the bed, taking her with him. She seemed startled, but went along with it, swinging a leg over his hips and effectively straddling him.

This time, it was her who made his breath hitch as both their clothed groins brushed against each other for the first time. His hand immediately went to grasp her hip, noting that she still at least wore her panties. However, the hand that was holding the sheet to cover her chest was slowly losing its hold.

His other hand came up to remove her hand, ultimately letting the sheet fall, revealing what she’d been trying to hide.

The heat growing in her lower regions immediately rushed to her cheeks, slight embarrassment over how exposed she was. Looking down at Roy, she took in his expression—appreciation, wonder, and… nervousness? He was just as nervous as she was, she decided.

She felt his hands move up her body, feeling her curves, and finally caressing the underside of her breasts, which made her throw her head back and let out an audible gasp. Again, her lower half rubbed up against his, and even if it wasn’t on purpose, he finally let out a drawn out and very pleased groan.

Her fingers slid through the lapels of his uniform jacket, popping each button as she traveled, until he was left clad in his white undershirt. She was done playing coy, her nimble fingers skirting underneath his shirt, and splaying themselves on his abs. Continuing her path upward, she succeeded in pulling the shirt above his head and throwing it somewhere.

He rolled her onto her back and pinned her arms above her head. She looked surprised, but didn’t flinch. His eyes took in the whole of her body—perfect curves, perfect creamy skin, perfect flush on her cheeks as a result of… him.

She was absolutely perfect.

His hand reached down to her still covered center, and dexterous fingers skimmed across her cloth-covered folds. The dampness he found only made his slacks feel tighter. He let go of her to undo his belt to remove them, but as soon as he did, she sat up and pushed his own hands aside to do it herself.

This time, he trailed kisses down her neck and shoulder, and when she finally succeeded in pulling his pants off, he joined her on the bed again, allowing himself to all but devour her. His mouth made it to the swell of her breasts and he reveled in their softness. His tongue lavished her nipple, causing her to arch into him.

He took that as a cue to slip off her final undergarments and his fingers found her wetness again. She cried out when he breached her entrance, and Roy thought that it was probably the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

He decided then that he would bring her to completion first, knowing full well that there was no chance of him lasting long the moment he would push inside her.

Riza let him please her. It had been a long time since she had let anyone do so—she had spent many nights with the company of her own hand recently, and she would never admit that the center of her fantasies had been none other than Roy. Although they never knew each other more than what was on the surface, he was charming, handsome, and she found it quite easy to be around him.

The movement of his fingers were more than practiced, she noted as he grazed that one spot that made her let out a long, drawn out moan. He’s probably done this before with many other women. There was no doubt he could hook any lady he wanted, Riza was sure of it. Maybe she would be one of a long line of conquests, but right now she didn’t mind—not when he played her body like he’d known it for years.

He loved watching her react to his touch—the way she arched her back, a silent plea that asked for  _ more _ —or how the hand on his shoulder gripped so hard that he was sure she’d leave crescent moon bruises where her nails dug into his skin.

Roy had never imagined being with her like this. Sure, ever since they met, she had managed to sneak herself into his dreams more often than not, but he chalked it up to their close proximity when he was still a student of her father’s. She was an enigma; he could never figure her out underneath her stoic facade. Now, having her sprawled out and open like this for him… he doubted that he could ever let the image leave his mind.

When her hips began to meet his hand on their own accord, he knew she was close. He sped up his ministrations, focusing his attention on where she responded the most. His hand was all but soaked, and he knew he was nearing that point very soon. And when she finally reached her peak, her hips snapped up and she let go, her essence coating the rest of his hand, to the sheets underneath her.

Roy was a little dumbfounded, but steadily coaxed her down from her high.

Her body thrummed with ecstasy. After the stars faded from behind her eyes, she opened them to see Roy hovering above her, his expression full of surprise. He wasn’t expecting that, but to be honest, neither was she. It wasn’t a common occurrence for her. Had she inadvertently turned him off?

She sat up on her forearms, thinking that she probably did, but before a word could leave her mouth, his lips were on hers, effectively erasing the question on the tip of her tongue.

This time, the kiss held more fervor than the last, shoving all pretenses to the side, and he practically  _ devoured _ her. Their tongues danced, their teeth nipped, and he took her breath away. All she could only wonder was why he was holding himself back for this long. 

Finally, Roy let his last barrier to her skin fall to the floor. Her slickness made it easy for him to slide inside to the hilt, and in response she broke their kiss to throw her head back to let out a cry. He pulled her back to meet him, and again caught her lips in a searing kiss, his hips finally rocking against hers.

He found purchase on her thighs, which had wrapped around his waist like they fit there. He greedily swallowed every moan and every sound that came from her mouth, giving her back his own to her tenfold. The coil in his stomach was unraveling quickly, and when he couldn’t hold it anymore, he let himself go inside her, a growl escaping from his lips.

She followed right behind him, toppling over the edge again, her muscles gripping him tightly through his spasms, and riding him until they were both completely spent.

They tumbled onto the bed together, trying to catch their breaths, a slick sheen of sweat on their skin. Roy pulled her into his embrace, softly caressing the small of her back and enjoying the afterglow. He pushed the thought of “after” to the back of his mind. What mattered now was her steadily slowing breathing against his chest and the way her body comfortably melted into his.

Before sleep could take them both, Riza stirred and began to roll herself out of his embrace.

“Where…” Roy began, his voice slightly hoarse.

“There’s a mess to clean up,” she simply said, her feet meeting the floor. “And you have some work to finish.”

He listened, and after cleaning themselves up (and replacing her now-soiled bedsheets), they moved to the living room downstairs. They situated themselves on the couch, Riza laying on her stomach across Roy’s lap. He used the fire glow from the fireplace as his light.

They were both much more relaxed now, and they sat in comfortable silence as Roy continued to take his notes. A blanket covered Riza’s lower half, though she was clad in pajama pants as well. Roy had put on his pants and undershirt again, but left the rest folded up neatly in her room.

He was just about finished with his notes another hour or so later, and he realized that this—whatever it was—would be over. Something told him that this may never happen again, and that there was a large possibility that they would never even see each other again. The next morning, they would probably register this night as one of their more obscure memories.

As he finished, he hesitantly went on to tell her, “I understand it now.”

“Oh… I see.”

He carefully placed her pajama top over her shoulders, and she took it as a cue to sit up and cover herself again. He stood up then, making his way to the fireplace.

He threw the notebook in his hands into the fireplace.

“It’s a shame, though. It’s almost useless without an existing flame, or something to create one,” he stated unhappily.

She stood next to him, staring as the flames began to eat up the papers.

“I’m sure you can figure something out,” she told him. “My father had faith in you, and so do I.”

A hand came up to cup her cheek. “Thank you,” he told her, suppressing the urge to kiss her once more.

When the morning came, she said goodbye, and he took his leave. Bothering to try to sort out anything between them would be futile, because he knew he had to go back to his assignment in the East. 

And she…

Riza Hawkeye still had her future in front of her.


End file.
